The Fantasist Loner and the Mysterious Moon
by SisiDraig
Summary: AU! It's a sort of warped fairy tale style at least it is so far . Vince Noir is an outcast and a daydreamer with a fasination with the mysterious man, who lives in the rumoured haunted house next door. Basically, read if bored. Prob.Howince eventuall
1. Chapter 1

**So, I watch Edward Scissor Hands and this popped into my head… I now realise it's more Beauty and The Beast meets to Kill a Mocking Bird meets a bit of my own imagination but still… **

**I'm really not sure how people are going to react to this, so I'd really like to hear what you think. I may not carry it on if the general consensus is that it's not going to work. And if I do carry it on, I can't promise you as quick updates as with my other stories, because, to be honest with you, this sort of came to me at the worst possible time. I've got school tomorrow and exams starting Friday *cries softly into pillow*.**

**Also, my mate Left T (she writes for NANA, check her out if you're into that kind of stuff) has **_**made **_**me write a sequel to 'Who Said It Would Last Forever?' - so for anyone who's interested that's on it's way too. Thank her for that.**

**Anyway, sorry for that ridiculously long A/N! I'll shut up now!**

**D/C: You know the drill by now!**

**--**

Icy, wind whistled around the large Victorian mansion. The grey slates on the roof rattled. The shingles on the wall clattered together and the lone, dead tree in the garden bent and swayed dangerously. Now and again, the constantly closed curtains fluttered in the draft, giving any interested watcher just the smallest of glimpses of the unusual gas-lit rooms or the mysterious old man, who dwelled within them. This man was known to the villagers simply as Moon, because it was thought that he only ever came out at night.

The mystery that engulfed the man had soon turned into a legend. Children were terrified of him. They'd run past his house so as not to be caught by the monster and they'd whisper nervously from the opposite side of the road;

"I heard he eats children."  
"Well, I heard he keeps their heads on his wall."  
"He killed my kitten."

But the rumours weren't restricted to the terrified children, the adults were no better ("I wouldn't go to near that house, you know he killed his wife and buried her in the garden."). Everyone in the village was intrigued by the house, but one young man, in particular, was mesmerised by it.

Vince Noir was the youngest son of the town's baker and his wife. The Noir's had been the perfect family. Husband, wife, son, daughter. And then Vince had arrived, almost fifteen years later, ruining the perfect symmetry. Often, after a few sherries, Mrs Noir would call her son a 'happy accident' and after a few more sherries, she would refer to him as 'bit of a mistake'. He'd learnt by now to ignore his mother when she was drunk and to ignore his tradition-governed father all of the time. In fact, he'd learnt to ignore almost everyone in this dead end town. He dreamt of leaving, of finding something new beyond the bridge that guarded the town's entrance. He dreamt of becoming an artist or a musician or a…

"Are you filling your head with ridiculous notions again, Vincent?" croaked his grandmother from an arm chair in the corner in the living room.

"What Gran?" he asked, looking up from his painting.

"What have I told you about saying 'what'?"

"Sorry Gran… pardon."

"I said, are you filling your head with ridiculous notions?"

"No Gran, I'm just painting."

"Painting what?"

"The view." Vince smiled, gazing out of the window at his favourite muse.

"Shouldn't you be doing some form of homework?"

"Gran, it's the summer holiday and anyway, I've finished school. I'm nineteen in a few days."

"As though we'd forget that." sighed his mother entering the room.

"You forgot Antony's thirty-fifth last month and he's the golden boy." This was true, Antony was the eldest and most successful of the Noir children and had fairly recently become the only lawyer in the small town, making him the apple in his fathers eye. His birthday, however, had been totally over shadowed by the 50th anniversary of the Great Gherkin Festival, which was something Vince had never understood and quite frankly wasn't bothered about trying to understand.

("_Come on Vince you__'__ll miss the finale!__"  
_"_Mum, it__'__s the Borsch twins dressed as cucumbers__…"  
_"_Gherkins.__"  
_"_whatever, they__'__re dressed as an indistinguishable green vegetable.__"  
_"_Cucumbers are fruit.__"  
_"_I don__'__t care, the point is, it__'__s twins dressed like idiots doing an even more stupid dance. It__'__s the same every year, I__'__m not watching it again, it__'__s like acid for the eyes.__")_

"Don't be silly Vince." scorned his mother. "We love you just as much as Antony and Shelly."

"Hmph."

"Vincent." came the shrill voice of his grandmother, "Don't be so impertinent."

"Inper- what now?"

"Rude." explained his mother. "And we're very proud of all our children."

"You're proud of Shelly?" scoffed Vince, "Why? She flunked out of school and married her teacher."

"At least she doesn't dress like some time warped hippy." That was Gran, popping up with her unwelcome opinion. Vince was used to her insults about his clothes, his ditsy ways, his daydreaming, his… well, everything actually, so he contented himself with rolling his eyes and ignoring her.

"That's as much as we could have expected from Shelly." sighed his mother.

"Didn't you want her to have ambition and dreams?" Vince asked.

"Don't dream; don't fail." was his grandmothers typically pessimistic contribution.

"But if we don't dream, then how can we make our dreams come true?" Vince said distantly.

"Silly notions!"

"Hmm," Vince grumbled under his breath, going back to his picture.

"Here," said his mum, handing him a couple of euros. "Pop down the corner shop and get me some milk, will you?"

"It's 200 yards, why can't you go?"

"Impertinence!"

"I'm sixty-five," exclaimed his mother, "a walk like that could kill me."

"Only if there're a bunch of gunmen waiting for you outside the shop."

"Honestly Vince! Where do you come up with such things?"

Vince pointed at his head, before sighing and saying, "I'll go when I've finished this bit of the painting."

"What are you painting love?" asked his mother peering curiously over his shoulder.

"Nothing." he gasped in horror, picking up the picture and running out of the room.

His family simply couldn't know about his fascination with painting the house. They'd think it was weird and they certainly couldn't know about his fascination with the man inside the house, the mysterious Moon. He, like Vince, didn't fit in with this 'perfect village' and Vince was convinced the old man wasn't as terrifying as people suggested. He went into his bedroom and pushed the unfinished picture under his bed, before looking out of the window over the lazy summer afternoon. Children playing football in the road. Men mowing their lawns. Women cooking tea. All of them ambitionless, stuck in tradition. As always, Vince's attention was soon captured by the house. It's not a lazy summer afternoon at that house. It's dead and the garden seems as bitter cold as the winter.

"VINCE!" cried his mum from the bottom of the stairs. "Milk please!"

Vince rolled his eyes and walked a little sulkily downstairs, taking the money from her outstretched hand.

"Blue lid." she reminded him, as he shut the front door.

He pushed his hands deep in the pockets of his metallic purple jacket and kicked idly at a few stones as he walked along the pavement.

"Hey mister." A child's voice called, causing him to look up. "You're about to walk right past the monster's house. You should cross the road before he hurts you."

"Hurts me, what, you mean with his laser beam eyes?" asked Vince smirking slightly.

"H-his w-what?" stammered the child.

"Yeah, didn't you know? He's got bright red eyes that shoot lasers at kids who's footballs go in his garden. And I've heard that he takes that child and uses it's head as a football." The child's eyes were wide and terrified and he whispered,

"How d'you know that, Mister?"

"I've met him." Vince lied, getting lost in his own imagination and anyway, it wasn't entirely a lie. At night, when he closed his eyes, he had met Moon. Vince was much braver in his dreams. He would stroll up to the front door confidently, knock three times before a little wizened old man would open it, green eyes shining, full of knowledge. And then they'd talk about life outside this godforsaken town.

"What did you do when you met him?"

"We…" Vince was just about to lapse into the comfort of his own made up world when one of the boys playing football cried out as though he'd been shot. He was pointing, white-faced, into the garden of Moon's house. Vince followed his terrified gaze and saw the football perched in the middle of the frosty mud.

"Oh no!" gasped the child Vince had just been talking to. "He's going to shoot you with his laser eyes. Run Jimmy! Run."

The five boys on the road scattered, hiding behind walls and cars. One kid, the one called Jimmy, even sought refuge behind a lamppost but, as usual, what everyone else seemed to be terrified of, Vince only saw as a glorious opportunity.

"I'll get your ball." he smiled, walking boldly to the rickety gate and fumbling carelessly with the latch.

After a frustratingly long time, he figured it out and pushed the gate open with some difficulty. It was very stiff and Vince could tell it hadn't been opened for ages, years probably.

"You're crazy mister!" was the only thing that broke the silence, but he ignored it and stepped onto the dusty muddy floor. He picked his way carefully trying to avoid getting _too _muchmud on his pristine white shoes, until he reached the football. He reached down to pick it up and just as his fingers brushed the ball, he heard a scream from one of the kids. Suddenly, a large, cold hand gripped his thin wrist tight and yanked him upright hissing,

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to trespass?" Before dragging him towards the house roughly. Vince wasn't sure whether this was a good thing. On the one hand, he was getting the chance to enter the house he dreamt about and meet the mysterious Moon. On the other hand, the slightly larger hand, a possible psychopath had just caught him trespassing on his property and was dragging him into his house with a look on his face that could be described only as… murderous.

--

Vince found himself flung into a old fashioned arm chair. He closed his eyes on impact, the sudden movement winding him a bit. Slowly, he recovered enough to open his eyes and was greeted by a rather bland red room with dark wood trimming. Apart from the chair he was sitting in and an old bookcase in the corner, the room was completely deprived of furniture. But Vince wasn't concentrating on the serious lack of… well, anything. His eyes were fixed on the surprisingly young man, with floppy brown hair, small brown eyes and a moustache, who was stood in the centre of the room glaring at him. They both just stared for a while, both seemingly trying to work out what to make of the other. To Moon's surprise, Vince was the one who broke the silence.

"You're not really what I expected."

"What?"

"I thought the man who lived here was old and wise"

"I may not be old but I'm wise beyond my years Sir."

"But I thought you'd be, oh I don't know, maybe a shaman or something."

"A shaman? Vincent, what _are_ you talking about?"

"All I meant was…" then he stopped. He looked nervously at Moon and squeaked, "How do you know my name?"

"I know everything about you."

"W-what?"

"What has your grandmother told you about saying 'what'?" Vince just stared dumbly, so Moon, who was enjoying himself by now, continued, "Her names Elspeth, isn't it?"

"How could you know that?" Vince asked. He sounded surprisingly calm considering, but his wide eyes were giving away how frightened he really was. "You never leave this house."

"I make it my business to know." smiled Moon, "Just like you make it your business to know that I've never left the house."

Vince felt him his cheeks go very hot.

"Anyway," Moon continued, "I have to watch someone in this ghastly village, otherwise I'll have nothing to do. And who am I going to watch? The vicar, with his ridiculous god-fearing ways, the children with their pathetic little games, the local school teacher with her infuriating do-gooder attitude. No! I watch the imaginative, pretty little Vince Noir, because he's ambitious. He wears… unusual clothes." Moon gave a half smile noting Vince's jacket and white boots. "He paints fantastic pictures and tells little story's that make me laugh. But most importantly than that Vince, you dream."

"Silly notions my Gran calls it." the startled man answered boldly. He couldn't understand why he wasn't running away. This man was clearly as nutty and Crunchy Nut cereal and he'd clearly violated his captive's privacy long before they'd met each other but, strangely, Vince didn't feel threatened, not yet.

"No, I don't mean daydreaming!" Moon snapped angrily. "I mean at night, when you're asleep."

"What, those pictures that I see in my head?"

"Yes."

"I love those. Their always so wonderfully weird."

"I know."

"Once a man had polo's growing in his hair and we had to run up and pull them out before he noticed."

"I know."

"And last night, I was being chased by nuns." Vince was on his feet by now, to better demonstrate his dream. "and they were wielding bread knives." Vince struck 'a bread knife wielding pose' but Moon, looking totally unimpressed, just sighed,

"I know, Vince."

"But the best bit is," Vince continued excitedly "was that they were riding on-"

"unicycles."

Vince stopped, mid-performance and stared fearfully at Moon.

"How could you know that? You said those pictures were in my head. Have you been in my head?" His hand shooting instinctively to his temple.

"No." Moon said. He was still infuriatingly calm and Vince wanted to scream with anger and confusion, when all the mysterious man said, as though it were the most normal thing in the world, was "But I've been in your dreams."

"How?"

He smiled, "You invited me there Vincent. Every night, knocking on my door, begging me to enter your dreams. It would be rude to refuse an offer like that?"

"Who are you?" Vince whispered.

"I go by many names; to children, I am a monster. To adults, I'm a wife-murderer, it doesn't matter that I've never been married. And to you, I'm a…"

"weird, head-invading pervert!" Vince gasped, suddenly seeing the situation for what it was. A thirty-something recluse, who watches pretty boys had captured him and brought him into this weird room, for what? Vince didn't like to think. He realised that Moon probably peered into Vince's room every night. After all, Vince had chosen to move into Shelly's room when she moved out so that he had a better view of the house. Moon probably watched him sleeping. Vince never bothered to shut the curtains, he liked to look at the stars just before he nodded off. He shuddered at the thought and began to edge slowly towards the door.

"Well," Moon continued, "I was going to say wizard but it doesn't matter, neither are true."

"I'd like to go home now please." Vince whimpered, edging ever closer to the safety of the door.

"I don't think so." said Moon. He clicked his figures and the door snapped shut. Vince's jaw dropped open. "Don't look so surprised," the older man smirked "you thought I was magic."

"Y-yeah, but… I mean… magic's not real, is it? It's not really real?"

"What do you think Vince?"

Vince went quiet and stared defiantly at Moon. "I think I want to leave." He said, walking bravely to the door and tugging on the handle. "Open it."

"What's the magic word?"

"There wasn't one, you just clicked your fingers."

"I meant say 'please'."

"Oh, open it, please." Vince flashed Moon one of his best melt-your-heart smiles but Moon's heart was made of pure ice and it seemingly could not be melted.

"No."

"What?"

"Once you come in, you can never leave."

"W-what?" Vince stammered, the colour draining from his face."I'm kidding."

"Oh." Vince didn't know what to make of Moon, his joking voice was identical to his serious voice.

"Come on Vincent." Howard said, his tone changing entirely. "Sit down." Howard waved his arm loosely and a sofa appeared. Vince gawped. "How is that…?"

"Magic." Moon interrupted, stepping a little menacingly towards the terrified younger man. Vince stepped backwards straight into the doorknob, which dug into his back as a painful reminder that there was no escape.

"Open the door." Vince said shakily, "Or my brother will send you down, forever."

"Your brother? He's the worst lawyer I've ever seen."

"You've seen other lawyers?"

"Yes and Antony is appalling."

"He's won every case."

"He's the only qualified lawyer in the town of course he wins."

"How d'you know all this?" Vince asked, he was on the brink of tears.

"I know everything Vincent."

"Please let me go now. I'm scared."

Suddenly, Moon's seemingly harsh persona broke and he flopped dramatically onto his new sofa, saying "I scare everyone. I just thought you'd be the exception."

"Of course you scare people. You're different. You don't fit in! You're a loner. You're completely alone."

Moon lifted his head and fixed the trespasser with a slightly bemused look.

"But Vincent, so are you."

Vince shook his head, black hair flying everywhere. "No I'm not. I'm not a freak like you." he knew this didn't quite ring true but he didn't care. He didn't want to believe he was like this man. "Open the door." he ordered.

Moon rolled his eyes, lifted his hand lazily and clicked. The door unlocked. Vince tore it open and ran. He ran like his life depended on it (and perhaps it did). He reached the huge, crooked front door. His hands were shaking so much he could hardly grip the lock let alone open it. From behind him, he heard Moon advancing slowly. "We're not so different you and me, Vince. Ask them about dreams."

Finally, he slung the door open and ran through it slamming it behind him. He didn't stop running. He daren't look back. He felt sure he could hear Moon's heavy footsteps behind him. He was vaguely aware of a few children calling after him, but he wasn't about to stop. He clattered into the door of his own house, hammering on it like something demented.

"Alright, alright." came his mothers shrill voice, "Keep your bloody hair on."

No sooner had the lock clicked open, Vince threw the door (and his mother) against the wall and legged it up the stairs into his room. He shut the door of his bedroom and sank to the floor in a breathless, sweaty heap. He pulled his knee's in tight to his chest and could feel a few salty tears dropping onto his nice, new jeans.

He felt somehow empty and alone, even though his mother was banging furiously on the door screaming at him to let her in. Vince felt as though something important had been taken from him, as though the wonders of the house had been some kind of comfort to him; a far off hope that there was more to life than baking bread, house chores and a batty old grandmother. Now, he wasn't so sure. His tear-filled eyes were soon drawn like a magnet to the silhouette of the house in the fading light of the low sun. There were still _so_ many unanswered questions. He got to his feet slowly, ignoring his mother's unrelenting rampage against his door and went to the window. The house was still winter-bleak as it ever was. Then, for the first time ever, Vince shut the curtains.

'Some questions are better left unanswered' he decided, before picking up his iPod and disappearing into a fantasy world, with the only people he could really trust, namely Jagger and Numan.

--

**Vince's dreams, by the way, are two of my most recent dreams! =].**

**Review?**

**Thanks for reading!!!**

**Sisi…xx**


	2. Chapter 2

A loud, house shuddering, slam of the front door woke Vince from his semi-slumber. He pulled the speakers from his ears cutting Gary off mid-word.

"And this one little girl" he could hear from downstairs "asked for a gingerbread girl. Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous?"

'Dad's home.' frowned Vince, getting up laboriously and throwing his iPoddown on the bed. He thumped down the stairs and strolled into the dinning room, where his Gran was sat listening to his dad rant about 'idiots he'd encountered at work'. He looked up as his son entered the room, rolled his eyes and said "And then this one comes in trying to give me a headache with his bloody jacket."

"This is very fashionable. Knocked it up myself from a couple of other jackets I had cluttering up my wardrobe."

"I don't care, it's hurting my eyes. Take it off."

"I don't want to."

"Impertinence!" screeched his grandmother.

"I'm not being rude," cried Vince, "he is! You lot'd go mad if I started pointing out all of your fashion disasters."

"Do you mind?" frowned his dad. "I don't need this from you. I've had a terrible day."

"I bet my day was worse." grumbled Vince, removing the offending item grudgingly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing dad."

"So insolent!" frowned Gran, though something told Vince the old nutbox was never happier than when she was complaining about her wayward grandson.

"I know." agreed his dad "Why can't you be more like your brother?"

"We can't all be perfect dad." Vince smiled sarcastically .

"Ah Vince." said his mother, coming in from the kitchen and putting down a plate of roast dinner in front of her husband and ever delightful mother-in-law. "you've come down from your bedroom."

"Yeah."

"Always comes down when he's hungry." Gran piped up.

"Did you get the milk?"

Vince swore under his breath, causing his Gran (who seemed to have piercing hearing for someone so old, especially when it came to Vince saying things he shouldn't) to scream "Vincent! Wash your mouth out with soap. What is wrong with you boy?"

"I'm not a boy anymore Gran."

"You're my little boy." smiled his mum, in a way he imagined was supposed to be encouraging but came across more condescending.

"Where's my cup of tea?" Gran squawked. Vince's mother gave him an apologetic look.

He sighed, "I'll go and get it now."

"You didn't even get milk? But you were gone ages!" screeched the old bat.

"Sorry Gran, I got… distracted. I'll be back now."

--

Vince was glad to be given an excuse to leave the chaos that was his family meal for a while. He walked casually down the road towards the corner shop but stopped when he reached the house then, for the first time in his entire life, he crossed the road to avoid it.

As he neared home, he felt a prickle on the back of his neck. The one you get when you know someone's watching you. He looked behind him nervously but there was no one around. It was tea time after all, everyone was inside eating in their perfect little families. His gaze was quickly drawn to the house and then to Moon, who was stood in the window, beckoning him in with one finger. Vince paused for a second. He thought about the family waiting for milk, the family that didn't understand him and then he looked at the man, who seemed to know more about him than he knew about himself. No. It didn't matter how intriguing Moon was, he was a psychopath or a rapist or both. He had to go home. Suddenly, he noticed that the house was getting bigger. He looked down to find his feet were betraying his rational thought by walking towards the house completely of there own accord. He was almost at the gate before he managed to stop himself. He caught the disappointed look on Moon's face, but Vince stayed strong and shook his head slightly. The older man shrugged and then mouthed something. It took Vince until he got home to work out what it had been. 'Ask them about dreams.'

Unsurprisingly, the Noir's had almost finished their meal by the time the baby of the family had returned. 'It was going cold' was the only reason they gave for starting without him.

"It doesn't matter." sighed Vince, picking up his plate.

"Where are you going with that?" frowned his dad.

"Bedroom."

"You can't."

"I am."

As he stormed up the stairs he was sure he heard his Gran say, "Such a handsome boy, shame he's such a fruit loop."

--

Vince had set up his unfinished painting of the house on the easel in his room and just stared at it for a while. It was probably the best he'd ever done but he knew now that it could never be finished. He didn't think he'd ever want to look at the house again, although he still couldn't shake the strange magnetic pull from the grey tiled mansion. There was a gentle knock on the door and his mother's voice drifted softly through the brightly painted wood. The door, like the entire room, had been recently redecorated by Vince, much to his father's intense disgust. One day a few weeks ago, he'd covered up all of his furniture with some sheets, played a Kasabian album as loud as it would go and just painted the walls until he was happy with the outcome. To say his dad had gone mad would be an understatement.

"Vince, darling, you finished with your plates?"

"Yeah." Vince said, letting her in. She bustled through the door busily and picked up his tray and was about to leave when she set the tray down on his desk and looked at her youngest son a little strangely.

"What?" laughed Vince uncomfortably.

"Nothing, it's just… you are okay, aren't you? You're not in any kind of trouble or anything?"

"Trouble? What kind of trouble?"

"You haven't got that Elisa girl pregnant, have you?"

"Mum! No!" Vince cried horrified. "Why would you even? I'm not interested in..." Vince stuttered on how best to flatten this theory early. "I haven't spoken to Elisa since I was eight." he decided on eventually.

"Shame, she always seemed like such a nice girl."

"Yeah, she was alright, I think. I don't really remember and we don't get on anymore."

"You don't get on with anyone anymore, Vincent. What happened? You used to be such a happy, popular boy."

"That's before I discovered everyone in this town was so… boring and traditional. It's all so Stepford Wives."

"You think you're so different Vincent, but you were like the rest of us once."

"I grew up though, didn't I?"

"No Vince, you didn't. That's the problem. Most eighteen and nineteen year olds don't go around talking about different worlds and different lives and unicorns with purple legs and small green men who live in their cupboards and all this other stuff you fill your head with."

"Silly notions." Vince quoted bitterly.

"Well…" his mother sighed noncommittally, she blew upwards to clear the hair out of her eyes. "All I'm saying is, you think you're right about all this life beyond the bridge nonsense but no one else seems to agree. Surely, it would make more sense that just one person were wrong, rather than hundreds."

Vince nodded but inside his whole being was screaming 'No, I can't be wrong about this! I can't be!'. After all, it was quickly becoming the only hope he had left to cling on to.

"Come down stairs." his mother encouraged, "Dad's finding us a film to watch."

"No thanks."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"To be honest with you mum, I'm feeling a bit tired. I think I'm just going to sleep."

"Okay darling. Good night."

"Night mum." Vince said, watching his mother leave. Suddenly, he remember something. "Mum."

"Yes love."

"You know when you go to sleep at night."

"Yes." frowned his mother clearly confused by the nature of the conversation.

"What do you see?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you see pictures or little films in your brain?"

"No." she laughed. "I go to sleep and then seconds later I wake up. Pictures in the brain. Who ever heard of such a thing? It's nonsense."

"Okay." Vince whispered. "Thanks."

"No problem." she laughed and, clearly baffled by what had just happened, she left.

Vince walked back to his painting. It really was very good, it looked just like the real thing, or at least he thought it did. Actually, did the house have that weird red brick on the turret? Better check really. He wouldn't have to _open _the curtains as such, he'd just have a peep out at the turret, just to make sure the read brick was there. Then he'd close them and that would be the end of it, forever. Yes. That seemed safe enough. He walked to the curtains and opened them, just the tiniest bit, and peered through the small gap.

He jumped back violently. His heart pounding in his chest. Moon. After a moment or two, he regained his courage and forced himself back the window and opened the curtains a little more. The mysterious man was stood looking at him from the room opposite and was making a weird hand signal. Vince frowned for a second unsure as to what Moon was getting at then it occurred to him ('open the window' Moon mouthed). He nodded, gesturing for Moon to hang on a minute. He locked his door so that his parents wouldn't walk on him whilst he was talking to this man. When he returned, Moon was looking thoroughly bored, although he could only have been waiting ten seconds at the most. Vince opened the stiff window and Moon said,

"I told you they didn't dream."

"How did you know that though?"

"You ask too many questions."

"I want to learn." Vince protested, "Like, what's your name?"

"Moon." the man answered simply.

"No, that's just what everyone calls you."

"Then surely that would make it my name."

"Okay, but what did your parents call you when you were born?"

"Howard."

"Can I call you Howard?"

"If you want."

"Howard, what?"

"Moon."

"Like I'm going to believe that."

"It's the truth. Even in the most absurd rumours, there's always an inkling of truth, Vincent. And there's a simple truth to me. You'll learn that one day."

A silence fell. Vince wasn't sure what to make of this strange man and he was all too aware how mad he could be. He was uncharacteristically lost for words. "Where's your blue jacket gone?" inquired the older man after a while.

Vince thought this was an extremely strange question, given the circumstances but, then again, Moon seemed to be a extremely strange man.

"Um, it's downstairs. Dad made me take it off. He says it makes his eyes hurt."

"Oh… I liked it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I quite like the way you dress. It's quirky. You look like some kind of futuristic prostitute."

"Thanks." scorned Vince.

"You're welcome."

Vince raised an eyebrow, "You haven't to spoken to people much, have you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah. And of course people nowadays don't have moustaches" Vince said solemnly and then he laughed prettily, infectiously; causing Moon to break a smile too.

"I'm sorry I scared you." Moon admitted quietly. "It wasn't my intention. I just don't how to be around other people, not since…" Moon stopped, he wasn't ready to talk about that, not yet.

"You killed your non-existent wife?" Vince provided helpfully, with a cheeky glint in his eye.

"Why not?" agreed Moon, "since then." he paused, whilst he tried to think of the best way to phrase this next question "Vince?"

"Mm?"

"…Never mind."

"Ah, you can't do that to me." grinned the younger man, "What were you going to ask?"

"Nothing."

"Go on. I don't mind."

"Well, would you like to come over?"; "Just for a bit." he added embarrassedly.

Vince thought about this offer. It wasn't a question of wanting to go, he definitely did, it was a question of whether or not it was safe to go. After all, he was pretty sure he'd been lucky to get out alive last time but, even though this man had scared him half to death earlier, Vince could see beyond the monster which the village had created to reveal a man who was just a bit lonely.

Anyway, Vince could never resist things that were a little bit broken or a little bit crooked or weird, that just made them different, different like him.

"How am I supposed to get there?"

"Leave that to me." Moon smiled, waving his hand so that a fairly thin and very old plank of wood appeared, joining the two windows.

"You'd better be joking."

"It's the perfect crossing. Strong, sturdy."

"Get lost. That'll break as soon as I lean on it."

"You'll be fine Vincent. You're only small."

"I ain't that small. You're magic. Create me a bridge."

"A bridge is just a glorified plank of wood."

"A glorified plank of wood with railings."

"My magic isn't so good beyond the confines of my house. Now, hurry up, or someone will see you."

"Okay, but if it breaks. I'm gonna sue."

"Yes, your precious Antony can take me to the cleaners. Except I don't own anything of any value."

* * *

**Sorry for the slightly slow chapter =[**

**Sisi...xx**


	3. Chapter 3

"Can you do magic outside your house?" Vince asked. He'd been walking around Moon's newly furnished living room, picking up the things that the older man had just created and studying them with intent before replacing them and picking up another one. Currently, he was studying a rather ugly china dog. His face must have shown his disgust because Moon said,

"Don't you like that?"

"Not really." sighed Vince, "It's not very… fashionable."

"You are too hung up on what's 'fashionable' Vince. Especially as you are the only one in the village who has your fashion taste. Does it never cross your mind you might actually be the 'unfashionable' one?"

"No, have you seen these jeans? There's genius."

"Hmm." Howard frowned, staring intently and the young man in front of him.

"What?" Vince asked nervously.

"Nothing." Howard replied, clicking his fingers so that the once china dog became a unicorn. "Is that more your style?"

Vince beamed and nodded delightedly. He still couldn't get used to this disappearing, reappearing, conjuring things from nowhere thing. He put the unicorn back on the newly created mantle piece and picked up a small iron clock, with golden arms and an ivory face, which suddenly sprouted legs and danced the irish jig on his palm.

"Can you do magic outside your house?" Vince asked again, watching the clock with increasing interest.

"Of course, I can go in the garden."

"And outside of the garden?"

"Yes, I can do magic in the house."

Vince turned to look at Moon with a scornful expression. "I meant 'out there', in the real world."

"Vincent, to me, this house is the real world and to you, the 'real world' is beyond the bridge, so how can I possibly answer that question?"

"Why d'you always speak like that?"

"Like what?"

"All... confusing."

Moon said nothing. He had nothing to say. Besides, he was used to the silence, it served as a weird comfort to him. Vince, on the other hand, hated it and immediately filled it with another question;

"Why doesn't your magic work outside of your land?"

"So many questions." sighed Moon languidly.

Vince shrugged, "Well, you're kinda…"

Moon looked at him strangely whilst the younger man searched his brain feverishly for the right word.

"interesting." he finished limply. "I _want_ to know about you. Anyway, you know everything about me, it only seems fair."

Moon looked up at Vince from his chair and smiled.

"You're so young and inquisitive, aren't you Vincent?"

"I'm not that young!"

"Hmm." Moon smiled bemusedly.

Vince ignored Moon's reluctance to answer any questions and returned to fingering all the new items that were constantly popping up around the room. Then he reached something that made him stop. It was a small elephant, squirting water over it's back and then squirting water at Vince, though it was so small the couple of drops that hit him didn't really matter.

"I like this." he smiled, taking it with him to nearest chair. As he went to sit down, Moon clicked his figures and the chair disappeared sending Vince crashing to the ground. Pain shot up his spine and he glared at Moon, who was laughing hysterically.

"You wanker." he snarled ferociously. He hadn't meant it to come out quite so venomously, but he _had_ just gone crashing arse first onto the floor and he was angry and embarressed. As soon as he said it, he regretted it. The atmosphere changed as suddenly as the chair had disapeared. Moon glared at Vince and said "Get out!"

"What?" asked the startled younger man, staggering painfully to his feet.

"No one speaks to me like that. Get out! GET OUT!"

Moon had a brutal expression on his face. Vince didn't think Moon would hurt him but he didn't want to stick around to test his theory. He jumped up and legged it out of the room, down the corridor, out the door and down the short, pebbled path to the gate. As he stepped over the house's threshold he heard a faint pop. Vince looked down to find himself covered with the dusty remains of what had been a beautiful, magical china elephant. In his eagerness to get away he must have squeezed the ornament too tightly.

He legged it home and hammered on the front door, not worrying about the fact his parents thought he was in bed. His dad opened the door with the usual hurtful comment but Vince wasn't listening. He went straight up to his bedroom and pushed the plank of wood from his windowsill so that it clattered to the floor and slammed the glass shut. The window pain rattled threateningly. He looked up to see Moon mouthing 'I'm sorry'. But Vince didn't care. He drew his curtains and led down on the bed and after hours of trying not to think about what had happened, he fell asleep.

--

_The waves lapped up, nibbling gently at his toes and he felt oddly peaceful. He led back on the sand, picking it up and enjoying the feeling of the grains sliding between his fingers. He sighed contentedly._

"_Hi.__"_

_Vince sat up with a jolt. He didn__'__t think anyone else was here._

"_Vince, it__'__s okay. It__'__s only me.__"_

_He turned around and there was Moon. He looked radiant in the warm sun, with the glimmering sea as a backdrop._

"_What are you doing here?__"__ Vince asked nervously._

"_What was the last thing you thought of before you fell asleep?__"__ Moon asked, sitting down in the sand next to Vince._

"_I don__'__t know.__"_

"_It was me.__"__ Moon smiled, staring out to the sea. __"__It__'__s beautiful here. Though I imagine most things you dream are.__"_

"_How are you here? I usually only dream about you in your house.__"_

"_Yeah, but I wanted to see you and apologise. I didn__'__t mean to shout at you.__"_

"_I know.__"_

"_You do?__"_

_"__Yeah. You__'__re just not very good with people. It__'__s okay. I understand. Anyway, you invited me to your house. Only friends ask you to their house, that makes us friends and it__'__s going to take a __**lot**__ more than you shouting to put me off.__"_

_Howard smiled. __"__That__'__s good to know.__"_

"_Though don__'__t go making a habit of yelling at me, alright? Otherwise I might start thinking you__'__re my dad.__"_

"_He__'__s not that bad, is he?__"_

_"__He__'__s a jerk. A blinkered, old man.__"_

"_Well, like you said__…__ he__'__s a generation older than you. You__'__re bound to think differently.__"_

"_Hmm__…__ How are you in my dream? I thought you couldn__'__t do magic outside your house.__"_

"_Dreams are different.__"_

_"__How?__"_

"_I don__'__t know. I just do magic, I don__'__t really understand it.__"_

"_Mmm.__"__ sighed Vince, resting his head on the older man__'__s shoulder._

_"__It__'__s peaceful here.__"_

_"__Yes, unusual for you. Your dreams are usually crazy, filled with too many colours and glitter.__"_

"_Yeah, but this is fine too. Kind of cosy.__"__ They fell silent for a while, just watching the waves. __"__If I imagine a dolphin or something, will it appear?__"_

"_I suppose so, try it.__"_

_Vince closed his eyes and concentrated very hard until a load of sweets fell into his lap._

"_I thought you were trying to conjure up a dolphin.__"_

"_I was, but then I thought, __'__what if it__'__s like the genie and you can only have 3 wishes or just one?__'__ I wouldn__'__t wanna waste it on a dolphin.__"_

"_I__'__d have preferred the dolphin.__"_

"_No way! Sweets are genius.__"__ Then a thought occurred to him. __"__Have you ever tried sweets?__"_

"_Ummm, no. Not exactly.__"_

_"__Here.__"__ Vince held up the sugary treat near Moon__'__s mouth. Moon went to take it so Vince pulled it away from his hands. __"__Cheat.__"__ he smiled and pushed the sweet against Moon__'__s lips._

"_I__'__m not letting you feed me. I__'__m not your pet.__"_

"_Go on. Just open your mouth.__"__ Vince urged, parting his own lips slightly in a weird demonstration._

_Seeing there was no way out of this rather intimate situation Moon followed suit and was soon tasting the sugary goodness._

"_Good?__"__ asked Vince._

"_Mmm. Not bad. I__'__d prefer a nice roast dinner.__"_

_"__Boring.__"__ sulked Vince, munching another sweet from the vast pile._

"_And I__'__d have preferred the dolphin if I__'__m honest.__"_

_Vince obliged my imagining a dolphin and suddenly one appeared in the distance, leaping around._

"_That__'__s better.__"__ nodded Moon, then he stiffened as Vince__'__s head rested back on the older man__'__s shoulder. He wasn__'__t used to physical contact. It felt unusual and uncomfortable but at the same time, it made him feel warm inside._

Suddenly, just as he relaxed Moon found himself back in the cold attic of his house with a thud. In the room across the way Vince woke up with a start to find his dad peering over him with a strange expression on his face.

After, his heart had slowed to a healthy pace, Vince asked,

"What are doing in my room?"

"You were talking in your sleep."

"I was?"

"Yes, loudly. Sounded like you were having a nightmare."

"I wasn't."

"Well, anyway. Keep the noise down. We can't sleep."

"Oh… right. Sorry." Vince stood up and locked his bedroom door as soon as his dad had left. Sighing he dropped to the floor and ran his hands through his hair. Had that been real? Well, not real. But… was Moon in his dream with him. Well, obviously he was, but… and what… Vince dropped his head into his hands and let out a long exasperated breath. This was all far too confusing.

Suddenly, he felt a prickly feeling, as though someone was watching him. He looked up at the window. Moon was there and Vince grinned. He couldn't help himself. He got to his feet slowly and walked over to the window.

"Where's my bridge?" Vince asked, and beamed as the plank of wood appeared immediately.

* * *

**I know it's getting a bit slow, sorry about that. Thing is, the end came really easily to me but getting there has become a bit of a pain in the arse. But I am refusing to leave a story unfinished. Bare with me, please?**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Sisi…xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm gonna finish this damned story if it kills me, which it might!  
Sorry, the chapters SO long, but i didn't know where to stop =].**

* * *

Slowly, over time, Moon began to notice his friendship with the young fop taking a new turn. Vince seemed even more obsessed with cuddling up to him which had eventually led to him widening his sofa so that they could both lie on it comfortably. The younger man had even started to move his own stuff into Moon's. Moon was furious when he walked into the living room one morning and tripped over an easel that Vince had left there. He'd promised himself he'd tell the younger man to get it out of the house next time he saw him.

Vince would go to Moon's house almost everyday without fail. Often under the cover of darkness or at times when the rest of the Stepford town were eating or at the assembly hall for the Borsch twins most recent dreadful dancing.

"Where are your parents?" Moon asked, one afternoon whist relaxing on the sofa and reading the newspaper he'd requested Vince bring with him.

"Hmm?" Vince asked looking up from his easel, bloody thing was still there. How many times had he asked him to move it now? Four? Five?

"Where are your parents?" he repeated.

"Oh, there's a concert down the school. It's like a singing competition or something. People you don't like murdering the songs you do."

"Sounds fun."

"Mmm." Vince muttered, chewing thoughtfully on his paintbrush.

"What are you painting?"

"You just wait and see."

"I don't want to wait." Moon frowned, clicking his fingers so that the painting disappeared and reappeared in his own hands. He was gob smacked.

"That's… I mean it's… wow." he breathed, looking up at Vince who'd turned beetroot red.

"You like it?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Vince smiled as the portrait of Moon reappeared on his easel. He carried on painting but he was quickly aware that Moon was staring at him. "What?" he asked without looking round.

"Nothing, just… thanks."

The younger man's eyes flicked to Moon and back so quickly it was hardly noticeable and although he said nothing, the smirk on his face told Moon everything he needed to know.

Moments like that were why Vince would keep going back. Moments like this were why he thought he should keep away:

It had been like it always was. There was the quiet comfortable atmosphere that Moon's house had. Moon was reading the paper. Vince was fiddling with all the things in Moon's house, like he always did. They were magic and he was drawn to things he didn't quite understand.

"Be careful Vincent." Moon warned, as Vince picked up a little ornament and twisted it around in his hands.

"I am." But Moon couldn't relax, he kept watching to make sure Vince hadn't broken anything yet. "Don't you trust me?" whinged Vince.

"No."

The younger man pouted immediately, "But I wont break it and even if I do… you can just make a new one."

"That's not how you should look at it." scowled Moon, getting up and ripping the ornament out of Vince's hand and replacing it on the mantelpiece.

"Boring." Vince smiled cheekily, picking up another one.

"Vincent. Put it down!"

"Calm down, calm down." he laughed, putting the ugly glass monument back and smirking as Moon leapt out of the seat to check it thoroughly, very thoroughly. In fact, by the time Moon had looked up, Vince had disappeared.

"VINCE!?" he yelled. "VINCE?! Where are you?"

The clicking of boots on wooden floorboards from above his head gave him the answer. Moon crashed up the stairs and found Vince in the attic. The younger man was gazing longingly at a large blue orb floating in the middle of the room. All around the wall were hundreds of mirrors each one with the name of a different villager underneath it. Some of them were shiny and new, others were dusty and dirty - old looking.

Vince was staring at the one with his brothers name underneath it 'Antony Noir'. He watched as Antony strolled confidently around the courtroom talking about what was morally right. Next to it was his sister's 'Shelly Gardner'; she was just sat watching television. Vince looked around him. They were all there; Borsch twins, vicar, teacher, butcher, van driver, shop owner… everyone. Vince took a step backwards and suddenly found himself toppling backwards. He was heading for that menacing looking blue orb; he didn't know what would happen, but he knew it wasn't good. His head hit the orb and a freezing cold overcame him suddenly. The air seemed to be sucked from within him. It was dark and empty. There was nothing. Just nothing. Endless nothing. Was this... was this death?

Then he felt something tug on his ankle. He felt the cold disappearing and he was suddenly in Moon's strong arms, holding him close. Vince could feel the older man's heart pummelling against his rib cage. They were so close. Vince gazing gratefully up at the older man; he buried his head in his chest and let out a long sigh.

"Oh my god!" breathed Vince. "What was that?"

"Get out." Howard said calmly, he seemed to mean it but he hadn't let go.

"what?" Vince asked, looking up confusion etched on his pretty features.

"Get out."

"But?"

"**OUT**!"

Vince ran. Ran. Confusion overcoming him.

That evening Moon apologized in dream form ("I was scared." He admited "I thought i'dlost you."). Vince easily forgave him and Moon felt guilty, which made Vince laugh, then Moon had laughed and they went back to being friends.

--

"When's your birthday?" Moon had asked one evening, after Vince had crept across 'the bridge' and made himself at home lying the floor with a huge pile of sweets, which he'd asked Moon to conjure up for him. "it's soon isn't it?"

"Tomorrow." Vince nodded, pushing the sweets around to make a smiley face.

"Tomorrow?" Moon exclaimed, "what do you want?"

The younger man shrugged. "I've asked for a car but… I don't think I'm going to get it."

"No, from me."

"What?" Vince asked, turning to look at his friend.

"What present do you want from me?"

"Nothing. You've already done enough." he smiled, pushing himself up off the floor and landing softly on the sofa next to Moon. "You let me escape from my family. That's the best present ever."

"So you don't want that?" Moon asked, as a silver pendant hung in the air like an orb. "Or that?" he asked as another one joined it. "Or that? Or this? Oh, what about that one?" Within seconds hundreds of pendants and clothes were floating slowly around, as though they were on a midair conveyor belt. Vince's jaw dropped open and Moon smiled leant in close to Vince and whispered, "Choose one then."

Vince shook his head slowly. "I just want to watch them floating." he smiled, suddenly snuggling up to Moon, resting his head on his broad shoulder.

The older man stiffened immediately. He felt totally uncomfortable. He'd have thought by now he'd have gotten used to random cuddles off Vince. It wasn't that he didn't like Vince leaning on him and cuddling him, or zipping and unzipping his jacket because 'zips are fun'; it was just, he wasn't used to it. He wasn't used to people and he still struggled with human things like the concept of sarcasm, which Vince thought was hysterical.

"Howard." he whispered contentedly as a white boot floated gently past their faces.

"Yes."

"Relax a bit." he smiled, pulling Moon's strong arm around his shoulders. Then he started giggling.

"What?"

"I was just thinking… if my dad saw me now, he'd be furious."

"Oh."

"But it's okay, you could zap him couldn't you. Or magic up a dragon and get it to eat him."

"I could kill him if you wanted." Moon said with brutal honesty.

Vince didn't really know how to react to that, so he just laughed a little nervously. "But you wouldn't, would you?"

"I'll do whatever you want."

"Could you make me a bouncy castle?"

"Yeah, if that's what you want me to do. Like I said, whatever you want."

Vince shifted slightly so that he could look at Moon.

"You're mad, you know that right?"

Moon just smiled mysteriously as a pendant flew past.

--

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR VINCE,  
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU."

Vince blew the candles out and the whole village cheered. The town hall was packed; full of family and family friends and nameless, faceless people that Vince didn't care about. Vince had begged Moon to come to the party but he had looked at him with an expression similar to that of someone who's just been asked to donate a kidney and told him he was completely mad. Vince had sulked and pouted in the corner until Moon had apologized by conjuring up Mick Jagger and forcing him to play a few songs for Vince. Vince had gawped and, when it was over, had thrown himself at Moon making them both crash to the floor in a heap.

Vince was laughing hysterically and even Moon chuckled to himself, though his back was throbbing from the sudden impact. He reversed their positions and tickled Vince until he was screaming for mercy. Eventually, they fell quiet, the silence punctuated only be tiny little bursts of giddy laughter. Neither of them moved; Vince on the floor with Moon above him. They gazed at each other. It was just them, nothing else matter. It was all about…

"Oi. Mate. You gonna pay me or what?" They both looked up to see the ageing rockstar looking pretty angry. Moon got up angrily and clicked his fingers and Jagger disappeared.

Vince thought it was the best birthday present ever and he didn't just mean seeing Jagger.

"Are you alright darling?" asked his mum, when he was sat on a chair, watching the rest of the village enjoying his disco.

"Hmm, yeah. Great party. Thanks mum."

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself."

"I am."

"Don't lie to me. What's up?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Come and dance then."

"Mmm. In a minute."

He didn't move. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful. He was, but he didn't fancy dancing with all these people that he didn't know. Besides, he was still remembering his morning with Moon. He was sure something had happened between. He felt confident that that silence had been loaded with something? There'd been a spark, he knew it.

"What are you doing you ungrateful git?" scowled Antony sitting down next to him. "Mum spent ages organising all this. The least you could do is pretend to be enjoying yourself."

"I know. I am trying."

"Try harder!" he hissed, fully prepared to storm off when Vince's quiet voice stopped him.

"Antony?"

"What?"

"How do you know when you're in love?"

"What?" his brother guffawed

"How do you know?"

"What's all this about? I haven't seen you talking to anyone. You have to get to actually know someone before you fall in love."

"But what if I was talking to someone and you just didn't know about it?" Antony fixed his little brother with an incredulous expression.

"You keeping secrets Vincent?"

"Not really."

"Because you know what this towns like. Nothing stays secret for long."

"Rubbish. You lot only see what you want to see."

"So you _do_ have a secret."

"No." lied Vince, quickly regreting asking the question.

Antony frowned, clearly confused. Then again everything his starry-eyed brother did confused him. "You're a freak." he concluded. "Go and dance with Elisa, mum says you fancy her."

Vince just sighed and with painstaking effort plastered on a smile and put on a big 'look at me, I'm enjoying myself' show for everyone involved. He danced with Elisa, who, apparently, had managed to develop some kind of crush on him, when she leant in and tried to kiss him. He'd managed to dodge it skillfully and make it look like part of the dance, saving them a potentially embarrassing situation. Then he'd requested a song. He'd danced to Saturday Night and he and in the melee of the Macarena, he'd slipped out and ran away.

**--**

Moon opened his door before Vince had even reached the path. He didn't stop to ask how Moon had known he was on his way, he already knew; "you been watching me in your little mirror thingy?" he asked happily, stood in the middle of the living room, hands on hips.

Moon said nothing. He didn't even acknowledge the younger man's presence.

"Oi!" Vince said, prodding Moon gently on the shoulder.

"What?" Moon snapped. Vince jumped.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine. Question is, why did you leave your party?"

"I was bored."

"Bored?"

"Yes." Vince frowned, Moon was acting strange. Each word he spoke was loaded and he seemed angry. Really, really angry. "Have I done something to upset you?" he asked, when Moon had stood up as he'd tried to squeeze onto the sofa with him.

"No." Moon replied too quickly and too loudly.

"What have I done?"

"You could have told me you were in love." Moon said bitterly. Vince blushed furiously. "I thought we we're friends. I though friends told each other stuff like that."

"We're are friends." Vince reassured.

"So, why have you never mentioned Elisa?" Elisa? What did she have to do with… oh.

"We didn't kiss."

"I know that."

So what was Moon on about, and then it hit him. Antony. "Have you been eavesdropping on my conversations with my big, stupid brother?"

"No." Moon lied.

"You want to ignore him. He thinks Elisa is the only person who'll even put up with me."

"You said you were in love."

"No, I said I didn't know if I was… anyway, not with Elisa. She's not my type."

"She's pretty."

"Not my type." Vince repeated, relaxing back in the sofa and tapping the vacant space next to him. Moon begrudgingly sat in the space and allowed Vince to snuggle up to him again. He was beginning to get used to all this attention. He was even starting to enjoy it. "Anyone would think you were jealous." grinned Vince.

"Don't be ridiculous." scorned Moon but deep down, Vince was right. He had been jealous but why? What of? It was stupid.

--

They'd been lying peacefully for a while when Vince spotted something on the mantelpiece. He leapt up and ran to the object. A snow globe. He picked it up and peered in at the figure inside, who looked strangely familiar.

"Is this me?" he asked.

"No." Moon blushed suddenly.

"It is, isn't it?"

"No." Howard clicked his finger behind his back. "It's this house."

Vince looked again and sure enough inside was the black tiles and crooked chimney of the house.

"You've done some of your voodoo." cried the younger man, "That was me! Or it was someone."

"No, it's always been the house."

"Whatever." Vince turned the snow globe upside down, covering the model house in fake snow. "I love snow globes." he smiled, "this one's beautiful."

"You think that's good, look out the window."

Vince frowned and walked curiously to the curtain and pulled it open slightly. It was snowing.

"Oh my god!" he gasped. "but it's he middle of summer."

"And you made it snow."

"Oh my god, do these snow globes…?"

"Yeah, watch this." Moon smiled creating a new one with himself in, he turning it upside down and the floor around Moon was suddenly littered with specs of snow.

Vince jaw dropped, he shook his own globe again and looked out the window as more snow began to fall."Can we go outside?" he asked.

"People might see us."

"So?"

"I don't… I'm not…"

"What?" urged Vince.

"You wouldn't mind people knowing you were at my house?"

"Don't be ridiculous." laughed the younger man, leaping up from his chair and grabbing Moon's arm dragging him towards the front door. "Anyway most of them are at my party."

"Look, Vince. I'm not really sure if…"

Moon was cut short as Vince swung the door open and danced out into the snow. He twirled around, the snowflakes landing in his black hair and catching on his long eyelashes. His red boots creating footprints in the freshly fallen snow.

"Howard, come on." moaned Vince, sticking his arms out and gesturing for the older man to join him. "You can't just hide in that house forever. Come and dance."

"Don't be silly, there's no music."

"So make some. You're magic. Aren't you?" Vince smiled, walking over to him and taking him by the hand.

"I…"

"Please Howard, dance with me." begged the younger man, tugging gently on Moon's arm.

"We need music to dance."

"I'll sing." suggested Vince.

"No," laughed Howard, "I've heard you singing. Let's try this." he lifted his hand gently and touched Vince's temple. Suddenly, the younger man could hear the most beautiful music. He looked around as though searching for what produced it. "Is that better?" Howard whispered, his hand still resting gently on the younger man's cheek. He nodded mutedly and suddenly kissed Moon swiftly, before stepping back into the snow and twirling around. Moon just stood routed to the spot, his fingers going instinctively to his lips as he watched the young fantasist rocking his hips in time to the music in his head. He looked around, no one else seemed to be outside so he took a deep breath and stepped into the garden. Vince looked up at him and smiled, taking him once again by the hand and pulling him in close. Moon felt a little awkward, but he felt a strange warmth flowing through him, culminating in his chest as Vince rested his head on his shoulder.

Vince made a soft murmuring noise and Moon smiled as they rocked gently to the music that only one of them could hear. The snowflakes were landing in their hair. It was perfect.

"VINCENT!" screamed a high pitched voice.

"Ahh." Vince dropped to his knees, his head pounding. It felt like feedback reverberating around his brain or that sound of a really big folk scraping on a really big plate.

"Vincent!" came his mothers screachagaincausing another white hot flash of pain through his skull. His teeth mashed together and he punched the ground, desperate to relieve the agony.

"Stop it." Moon shouted at Mrs Noir, "Stop it, your hurting him."

"You get away from him. You better not have touched him. Murderer."

"Shut up, you old bat." Moon yelled, dropping to his knee's to examine the man who was in pain.

"Howard." Vince whimpered from his heap on the floor. "Howard. Stop it hurting."

"GET AWAY FROM HIM! MURDER. MURDER." Mrs Noir screeched, causing her son to squeal again.

Moon touched Vince's temple and the pain was gone. The blissful release causing the younger man to collapse sweatily on to Moon.

"What was that?" he whispered.

"I put magic in your head and when something from outside my land reached it the magic shattered. I'm sorry. You okay now?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." he pushed himself up so that he could bury his throbbing head in the crook of Moon's neck. Moon put his arms around him, trying to ignore the growing crowd at his gate.

"Vincent Noir." barked his dad, Vince lifted his heavy head and looked over his shoulder. There were his parents looking furious as well as his Gran, the vicar half the school children, the local school teacher, the milkman, policeman, fireman, his brother and sister, everyone who was at the party. "Vincent! Get away from that man! He's a psychopath."

"You better go." whispered Moon, detaching himself from the younger man.

"I don't want to." was the strangled reply.

"I know but you…"

"But I think I…" Vince cut in, turning so that their eyes met. "I think I love you."

"Don't be ridiculous Vincent. You're nineteen. You don't what love is."

"Does anyone?"

"I will."

"You will. What does that mean?"

"VINCENT."

"Go." hissed Moon.

"I don't…"

"GO!" he shouted. Vince jumped violently and scrambled away across the no longer snow-covered ground and ran to the gate, as soon as he'd left the garden his mother grabbed him and slapped him hard across the face. The pain struck like lightning.

"Don't you dare go there again! You hear me!"

Vince looked around to see the villagers starting to launch stones and bricks or anything else they could find at Moon.

"Stop it." he yelled, "Stop throwing stuff at him."

Moon glared at them and hissed recoiling, almost animal like, towards his house.

"Yeah! Get back in there you monster!"

"Murderer!"

"Rapist!"

--

"Did he touch you?"

"What?"

"Did he make you do… anything? Anything you didn't want to do."

"…"

"Vincent?"

"…"

"Vincent?"

"…"

"Vincent!"

"_What_ dad?!"

"Did he hurt you?"

"No! He would never hurt me. He cares about me."

"I knew you were a bit deluded Vincent but I didn't realise you were so brainless boy."

"I'm not a boy anymore dad. I'm a man and I can do what I want."

"If you believe that, your more foolish than I thought."

"How Dad? How is that even possible? You seem to think I'm the worst thing on the planet."

"No! _He__'__s_ the worst thing on the planet." his dad shouted, pointing uselessly in the general direction of Moon's house. "You're just a poor misguided child."

"I'm **not. A. child!**" Vince yelled, then he turned and ran up the stairs in floods of tears. He legged it into his room and threw himself down on to the bed. How had he got himself into such a hopeless situation? How had he allowed himself to fall for Moon? And why, _why_ did he tell him he loved him? He didn't even know for sure. He couldn't know for sure.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!!**

**Sisi...xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Dedicated to you!**

* * *

_"Hiya, how are you?"_

_"Not great." sighed Vince, looking up from the giant toadstool on which he was sat._

_"Parents giving you a hard time?"_

_"Parents, children, villagers. It's alright for you, you hide away in that house. You don't have to face them everyday."_

_"I couldn't face them at all."_

_"Yeah, you haven't got the balls."_

_"That's not fair."_

_"Then come and see me."_

_"I can't do that Vincent. You know that."_

_"So what? I have to make do with this. The occasional meeting in a half dream."_

_"You could always come back to my house."_

_"How? I'm locked in. They've trapped me here; they've locked my windows and my doors being watched. It's your turn to stick up for me. I need you to free me Howard. I need you."_

_"Don't be so ridiculous."_

_"Why don't you just leave your house? I want to see you."_

_"I'm here now."_

_"But this is just my dream. It's not real."_

_"Does it feel real?" Moon asked, resting a hand on Vince's shoulder._

_"I guess."_

_"Then, it's real enough."They fell silent. They appeared to be perched on a purple cloud. There were brightly coloured rainbows, fluorescent stars and hearts floating around. Everything was covered in glitter and prancing about in the distance were loads of indescribable animals._

_"If this is my dream…" Vince said distractedly, "do I have some form of control here?"_

_"Some form of; yes."_

_"Cool."_

_"Howard?"_

_"Yes Vince."_

_"What did you mean when you will know when you fall in love?"_

_"It's part of being me."_

_"Can't you explain it to me yet."_

_"No. I can only explain it when I know."_

_"Know what?"_

_"If I'm in love with you."_

_"What?" breathed the smaller man, turning to face his friend. "What are you talking about?"_

_"I care about you, Vince, really care about you. I think about you all the time."_

_"Me too."_

_"I'm crazy about you."_

_Vince nodded._

_"But I'm not in love." and on seeing the disappointed look on the younger man's face he quickly added. "Not yet anyway. It's too soon."_

_"It's never too soon to fall in love." whispered Vince, placing his quivering hand gently on Moon's cheek. "I know you're scared."_

_"I'm not scared." Moon lied._

_"I'm scared too. Neither of us have ever let anyone else in before. It's terrifying."_

_Moon nodded aware of how close Vince now was._

_"If I kissed you," Vince whispered, so quietly Moon was unsure the younger man had spoken at all. "would you…" but before he could finish his sentence Moon's lips were on his. The older man's hands slid under Vince's shirt making the smaller man shudder at the touch. They began to float upwards, like stars, spinning around slowly. From somewhere in the distance music was playing and there were rainbows and fireworks and… was that bagpipes? Vince's dreams did like to throw up the odd slightly unusual twist._

_Vince moaned against the other man's mouth. He knew he'd been waiting for this, he just didn't realise how long. He reached his hand up to Howard's hair, it was so thin, so wispy. Hardly there at all. He pulled back from the kiss to look at Moon, but he looked strange, somehow see-through; like a half man._

_"Howard, what's happening?"_

_"You're waking up." was the reply._

_"No, I don't want to."_

_"See you tomorrow night Vince."_

_"Noooooooooooo."_

--

_**Beep Beep. Beep Beep. Beep Beep.**_

Vince leant over and whacked blindly at his alarm clock until it stopped. It couldn't have been a dream. It'd felt so real. He'd kissed Moon, Moon had kissed him back. But had he really? Had he wanted to? Moon had said that he, Vince, had had control. Was that even the real Moon or was it just his dream? Vince fell back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling until the reflection of the sun blinded him. He covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. He had to see Moon.

He removed his hands from his face, stared straight ahead and whispered, "If you're watching me Howard. Make it snow around me. Please. I need to know you're there."

And just like that, the first white flakes dropped onto his duvet. Vince smiled as the snow fell from the ceiling and landed in a circle around him. "Thank you." he said, and a tear rolled gently down his face.

"For what?" came a voice, Moon's voice in his ear. Vince looked around. "I'm at the window." was the explanation. "Quick, getting my voice to you is shattering." Vince ran to the window and looked across. Moon gave a sort of half wave.

"Last night." Vince said.

"Yes?"

"Did you visit my dreams?"

"Yes."

"And did you mean to kiss me?"

"Yes."

"You know I've had that dream virtually every night this week but none of them felt quite… right."

"Vince."

"Yes?"

"You were right."

"About what?"

"About…"

"Howard, you're breaking up. I can't hear you."

"…being scared. I… think that… terrifying… you…"

"I said… think that…"

"Howard what's wrong? Why can't I here you?"

"So tired… magic… not strong… Vince, you must know that…I lo-"

"Howard?"

"…"

"Howard?"

"…"

Moon gave a signal to show that was all he could manage and then collapsed from view. Vince banged the window with his fists, desperate to get out, desperate to be with Moon. He couldn't stand this any longer. He picked up his easel and launched it at the window the smashing noise it made was deafening. He clambered quickly onto the ledge. His foot slipping as he stepped down onto the trellis.

"VINCE!" his dad banged at his bedroom door. "Vince? What's going on in there?"

Vince didn't stop. He climbed skilfully down the trellis, jumping the last metre before finding a broken gap in the fence and pushing through it. He went to the backdoor. Open, as always. He pushed it and rushed up the stairs.

"Howard." he yelled, running into the room. "Howard, are you okay?"The older man, groaned loudly from his motionless heap on the floor. Vince rushed over to him, clutching him close. "What's wrong? Tell me what to do?" Moon tried to talk but he was too exhausted.

In the distance Vince could hear his dad shouting his name. He stood up and looked out of the window. His dad was in his bedroom. He'd broken the door down and now was positively steaming with fury.

"We're coming to get you!" he cried and like that, he disappeared. Vince leant out of the window and watched as his parents left their house in pursuit of their youngest son.

"Howard. Howard. I know you're weak but I need you to put a barrier around the house. Please Howard, you've got to stop them getting in."

Howard tried to reply, but he couldn't. He didn't have the strength.

"Please Howard try, for me. Just this room? Please. Or they're going to take you away from me forever. Please Howard, for me. Just try." Howard used all his strength to look at Vince and with his last breath he said;

"I'm sorry."

Seconds later the door crashed open and Vince's dad hauled him up and dragged him away from the still body.

"Dad, please," sobbed Vince, "don't let him die. Please." Vince broke free and ran back to Howard holding him close, feeling for a weak pulse. "Howard, wake up." he begged, "please wake up. I don't know what's happening. What's wrong with you?"

"I'm cursed." Moon rasped weakly, his lips hardly moving, his words hardly spoken.

"What?" Vince wept, but his dad had hold of him again and was wrenching him away harshly. He struggled against it but his dad was too strong.

--

Vince felt sick. His dad had taken him to the bakery with him to keep an eye on him. So he sat in the corner trying to ignore the image of Moon flat out on the floor that was tattooed on his eyelids. He needed to know how Moon was, the not knowing was killing him. He hoped that Moon was now strolling around the house as miserable as ever but he had a horrible feeling he would still be lying there. And what had Moon meant about being cursed? Vince knew he had to go back but how was he going to get there? How was he going to give his dad the slip? And then, fate presented him with the opportunity.

"Vincent Noir." came a craggy voice from the counter. He looked up to see Mrs Cavel buying a loaf of bread. He hadn't seen her come in, not that he was paying much attention to anybody walking in and out.

"Hiya Mrs Cavel." he smiled politely.

"I've heard you've been out cavorting with that Moon character." Vince's gut twisted sickeningly but he said nothing. "Foolish thing to do. You know he murdered his ex-wife."

"He never had a wife." Vince mumbled.

"What was that? Speak up child."

"I said, he never had a wife."

"Well, that's what he told you. Why are you here anyway?"

"I'm being watched." Vince glared at his dad.

"Nothing then." announced Mrs Cavel, "excellent, you can bring that back to my house for me." she said pointing to a cardboard box full of cakes. Seizing his chance, Vince leapt up and said;

"Right, no problem."

And before his dad could protest they'd left.

It seemed to take an age to reach Cavel's house and when they got there she insisted on searching for over ten minutes for 'a little something' for him to take away with him. Eventually, she settled on a small doll, saying; "You'll like this. I know you're a boy but you're not the most masculine of boys, are you?"

"Ummm, thanks." Vince smiled, graciously taking the object and leaving.

--

Vince had practically run to Moon's house. He'd pushed his way through the gate and round the back of the house to slip through the open door. He legged it up the stairs round the corner and straight into Moon's belly, bouncing back and landing with a thump on the floor.

"Surely your parents taught you not to break into people's houses?" the man smiled, reaching a hand out to help Vince up. He looked awful, grey with dark rings around his eyes and he looked somehow older, his skin looked loose on his face.

"You're alive?" Vince gasped, taking the outstretched hand and hauling himself to his feet.

"I was last time I che-" Moon was cut off mid-word as Vince winded him with a ferocious hug.

"I thought you were dead." he whispered. "What happened? You said something about a curse."

Moon nodded, "I'll explain when we're downstairs. You deserve to know." Then spotting the doll in Vince's hands he said; "What's that?"

Vince shrugged and handed it to Moon. "Have it."

"It's horrible."

"It's a present. You have to accept it graciously."

"I don't."

"You do. It's what humans do."

Moon cocked an eyebrow disbelievingly and with a click of his fingers the object disappeared.

Vince smiled and helped a weary Moon down the stairs, who moaned that he didn't need help the entire way. When they reached the living room Vince was surprised to find it was bare, just like the day he'd first arrived.

"Where's all your furniture gone?" frowned Vince, helping prop Moon up against the wall before sliding down to sit next to him.

"My magic." he explained a little croakily, tired from the walk "It's fading."

"Why?"

"Because of the curse." Moon said darkly.

"Tell me about it." Vince encouraged, snuggling up to the older man and the familiar weight at his shoulder served as a comfort to the older man as he embarked on his wicked past.

"I've been cursed since I was eighteen. An evil witch put a spell on me."

"Why?"

"We were inseparable. She was my best friend, we did everything together. One day she told me she loved me and I… I didn't say it back. I broke her heart. So she said that if I didn't love her I couldn't love anyone. She condemned me to a life of solitude. She told me if I ever fell in love, I'd die."

"What?"

"I'm dying."

"But there's got to be some kind of get out clause."

"Well, there is…"

"There is, what?"

"If I leave the house then the spell breaks."

"Well, come on then… let's go." the younger man said, tugging on Moon's sleeve.

"I can't." Moon whispered.

"Why not?"

"Well, if I leave the house and it's not true love, I die and then there's the other part of the curse."

"What's that?"

"If I leave this house, I lose my magic. That was the price to pay for falling in love."

"You'd rather die than lose you magic."

"No Vince, I wont die but you have to leave me, now, before I fall in love."

"So you're choosing your magic over me?" Vince asked, a single tear escaping from his eye.

"I have to."

"Why?"

"Because I know my magic will last forever."

"You're going to regret this Moon." snarled Vince, leaping to his feet. "one day, years from now you'll wake up and realise that we could've had something special… but you chose magic. You chose your precious spells."

Vince ran. Moon watched him go. This was for the best. He was sure of it but… what, then, was that horrible sinking feeling in his stomach and that sharp pain in his chest?

--

Vince's eyes shone in the orangey-glow of the dancing flames.

"Vince." his mum said softly, "honey, are you okay? What are you doing?"

"Bonfire."

"But it's not November."

Vince shrugged.

"What are you burning, sweetheart?"

"The past." he sighed, picking up the next canvas painting of the house and throwing it on top of the raging flames.

"Sweety, do you really want to burn all these? Some of them are wonderful."

"I don't care. They remind me of him." he picked up another one and threw it with the rest of the burning wreckage. This one was of Moon's face. He watched with sick content as the paint began to boil and pop, the colours melting together in a sickening mish-mash of browns and reds and then the canvas itself began to curl backwards to meet the wooden frame.

"Goodbye Howard." he sneered, throwing the rest on and leaving to sit quietly in a corner or the living room, still being watched by his family. Still under house arrest.


	6. Chapter 6

Vince had decided sometime ago that, with nothing left for him in this town, he should leave. He didn't tell anyone he was going, he just went to his room one evening, packed a small suitcase and set his alarm for 5.00am. He fell asleep in his bed for what he felt sure would be the last time.

_It was dark. Pitch black. There was nothing. Just nothing. It was silent. Except, what was that? In the distance, a voice? It whispered his name. He strained his ears as the voice got louder and louder until it was screaming in his ears. The wind rushed past him, whirling around at a frightening pace.  
_"_Vincent!__"__ It was Moon__'__s voice. He was sure of it now. __"__Vincent, Vincent, Vincent. Vincent. Vincent.__"__ Over and over again.  
__Vince dropped. He didn__'__t know where from and he had no idea where to. He just collapsed in the blackness.  
__"__Vincent,__"__ the voice was close now, somehow above him but out of reach; always out of reach. __"__Come and see me before you leave.__"  
__Vince tried to shout back __'__You come and see me__'__ - but the furious wind stole his words, whirling them away like a forgotten secret. He flapped about like a fish out of water. He needed to get out of this. He didn__'__t like the darkness. If felt cold and unwelcoming; it felt like death. He had to wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up._

Vince sat up with a jolt. His heart was pounding painfully against his ribcage. He was sure it was going to explode in his chest. He got up shakily, struggled to the window and looked out. It was pitch black. The clouds were covering the stars and the moon was barely visible but, in the opposite window, one Moon was very visible. He was gazing gently, apologetically, at the younger man, beckoning him slowly with a single finger. Vince furrowed his brow. He hated Moon. He couldn't go and see him. He was the reason he was leaving in the first place but as Moon mouthed 'please' in a way that seemed both desperate and sorry, Vince gave in completely. He'd always been too willing to forgive.

He picked up his suitcase and heaved it carefully down the stairs, the suitcase thudding softly against each step. He hoped anxiously that the sound wouldn't wake his family but the obnoxious snoring seemed to suggest they were still asleep. He left the house quietly and crept next door.

Moon came to the door and opened it. Vince stepped through the entrance carefully, dropped his case in the hallway and walked into the living room in silence. There was still no furniture but the room still wasn't as empty as the silence between them.

after what seemed like years, Vince asked sullenly; "Your magic still not working?".

"No." Moon replied quietly.

"So now you have nothing?" Vince laughed though nothing was funny and his tone was uncharacteristically coldly when he continued, "No magic. No me."

"Don't."

"Don't, what?"

"Don't… leave."

"Why d'you care? You made your choice."

"But I… I was wrong. I didn't mean…"

"Howard." Vince whispered. He still couldn't bring himself to look at Moon. He just stared at the wall over the older man's shoulder. "I think you were right. I don't love you. I can't. I'm nineteen for God's sake. I don't even know what love is and I hardly know you, not really."

"Vince. _I_ know that this is love."

"You can't."

"Vince. I'm weak. I'm dying because I love you. Trust me, I know."

"Stop."

"Bu-"

"Stop. Please. You keep toying with my head. I knew that you were messed up but I looked past that. I wasn't afraid. I didn't believe what everyone else said. I took no notice. I got to know the real you and I liked it. But you kept blocking me out when I got too close; pushing me away, over and over."

"I'm sorry."

"And now that I'm going. You want me back? You just want what you can't have."

"That's not true. I only want what's best for you and for me. If my intentions were misunderstood then I'm sorry. Please Vince, I'm not good at this be patient with me."

"Why?" he asked, his eyes flaming as he glared at the older man. "Why should I? I've been patient! I was ready to open up to you. I was ready to love you but you said that… you said…" Vince broke down suddenly, he turned away from Moon so as to hide his tears. After a moment or two he spoke again, much quieter this time, his voice strangled and tender; "You said that your magic came first."

"I was wrong. I was scared." Moon reached out gently to touch the younger man's shoulder but he pulled away, taking a few steps backwards.

"Don't touch me." snarled Vince. Moon cowered looking wounded. They stood silently for a while until Vince spoke again, much quieter this time, solemnly; "I'm going to leave now. If you love me, you'll come too."

"I…" Moon started dumbly. "I don't know if I can. I don't know how to be around people."

"I wouldn't ask you do anything that I wouldn't do for you."

Moon nodded.

"And if you come, I'll help you." Vince promised, taking a step closer to Moon. He reached up and pressed a kiss to the corner of Howard's mouth. "If not, I'll miss you."

With that, he turned and walked away from Moon.

Moon stood rooted to the floor. His mind was racing. This was the crossroads of his life. He felt empty and his stomach was fluttering, like it does when you're on the brink of making a big step forward or in this case a huge giant leap of faith. He wasn't ready to leave the safety of his house. He wasn't ready to test the strength of his love but if didn't he was going to lose his love forever. The question it kept coming back to was; is Vince worth it?


	7. Chapter 7

**The song is Hostage of Love by Razorlight, whom i'm slightly obsessed with at the moment!! =]**

* * *

Vince shut the gate woefully behind him and trudged dejectedly away from the house, refusing to look back. He just stared at his shoes as he walked and was surprised to hear footsteps. Could that be Moon? No, the sound was coming from ahead of him. He looked up. His father was storming towards him, wearing an expression that suggested he was ready to kill.

His dad advanced at furious pace. His face was blood red and Vince knew he was in for it. As his dad got close, his hand rose, ready to strike his son for disobeying his orders. Vince's hands shot to protect his face and, as the hand came down, Vince closed his eyes and waited for the impact.

It never came. He opened his eyes. There was Moon, clasping his dads arm.

"Don't you dare touch him." he hissed.

"That's my son. I'll do whatever I want."

"Not while I'm around."

"Well, you wont be around. I'm not letting you anywhere near him again." Mr Noir snarled, wrenching his arm away from the recluse.

"No Dad!"

"Keep out of this Vincent." he turned back to Moon, "I'm going to make sure you spend the rest of your life behind bars."

"I've done nothing wrong."

"You've kidnapped my son. You held him hostage. You probably raped him… or something."

"I haven't touched him." Moon said quietly. He swayed slightly, hand going to his head. Vince watched him anxiously. The older man looked pale, pasty and weak and there was a strange glow coming from him, a mysterious blue light, the same colour as that orb in Moon's attic.

"You okay?" Vince whispered in his ear. Moon nodded through teeth gritted. He was clearly in some kind of pain but he was biting through it. He was being strong, for Vince.

"You're going to get banged up for ever." scowled Mr Noir and suddenly Moon collapsed to the floor.

"Howard." Vince whispered, dropping to his knees and shaking Moon's shoulders desperately. "Howard. Get up, come on. You're okay. You're safe. You're free. Please Howard. I need you. I need you."

"Vince!" barked Mr Noir, dragging him up by the cuff of his shirt. He started to drag the young man away down the street but stopped as Moon's body rose into the air; limp, lifeless. Vince screamed.

From nowhere a vicious wind whipped up and rushed towards Moon. A whirlwind of noise deafened them and a blinding blue light shone from Moon's body.

"NOOOOOO!" Vince yelled, pushing his dad away roughly and running back to Moon. He reached uselessly up to him, his fingertips brushing the edges of his sleeve; just out of reach.

Suddenly, there was a loud cracking sound and an earth shuddering jolt, which flung Vince to the floor, and a black-shadowed woman appeared under the floating figure of Moon, chanting;

_You make yourself a prisoner of me  
You blind yourself so you don't have to see  
You turn your life to a power above  
And make yourself a hostage of love_

Vince's head was spinning. Moon was raising higher and higher. He knew he was losing him. He was fading out of sight and the blue light was blinding and confusing. Vince felt a pain inside like he'd never known as the dark figure swirled upwards until she was eye to eye with Moon's limp form. She sang, her voice as disturbingly beautiful as church bells on a winter's evening;

_You say you've got to live alone  
Though it hurts, you'll make it on your own_

A low moan came from the dying man. He tried to turn to Vince but it was impossible. He was chained in position by an invisible force but he was determined and managed a half twist of the head; his eyes glassy and dead. Vince felt sick.

_You turn from me, you turn from the strain_

Continued the dark angel.

_Devote yourself to the power again  
Distance yourself from what we avowed  
You broke the rules, your my hostage now_

"Don't do this." moaned Howard, his voice panting and weak. _His final breaths _Vince tried not to think.

"Please Howard." he cried, not sure now that his friend could hear him, "Fight against it."

"Tell him Howard." the angel screeched, her voice like nails on a blackboard, very different from her ghostly-soft singing. "Finish it Howard." she urged, "Finish it." And Moon began to chant too.

The angel cackled with glee and smugly glared at Vince, her eyes the luminous, piercing blue of the orb. She screeched, "It's over. The spell is complete. When he ends the chant he's mine forever. Mine… mine… mine… mine… mine… mine…mine." the words reverberated around Vince's skull. No, this couldn't happen. Not after everything they'd been through.

Moon chanted:

_You cannot be saved  
You gave your innocence away  
I've turned my cheek  
And I've suffered the blow  
The truth of my story  
Is widely unknown  
Words of derision I have  
Swallowed with a smile  
For telling my story I have been cruci-_

"I love you." whispered Vince, he didn't know why he said it. Desperation? He just knew he needed Moon to hear it before he disappeared forever. The chant stopped. The angel screamed. She caught fire, black flames licking at her face as she melted within herself. The ominous blue light, which was quickly fading was replaced with a golden, sunshine-like glow and Moon's form was lowered softly to the floor.

Suddenly, there was an earth shattering noise that screamed through the air as Moon's house went back on itself; sucked into the blue orbed black hole in his attic. Vince gawped at the sight ahead of him.

As Moon landed gently on the pavement, Vince ran to him and threw himself at the older man's still lifeless body; clinging to him and vowing, over and over, never to let him go again. The soft thudding of a heart beat against his ears told him that Moon was alive but it seemed to take ages for Moon to finally cough and splutter into life.

Vince didn't bother to look up, he just clutched tighter to Moon and waited until Moon was fully conscious. When he felt Moon's hand play with his hair, he whispered;

"What was that?" It was then that he first became aware of the salty tears streaming down his face.

"That was," Moon replied in the same tearful whisper, "that was you saving me. You broke the curse. You freed me."

"How?"

"Because… of true love." Vince lifted his head and looked at Moon as he continued "and because you love me and I love you Vince… so much."

Vince nodded, more tears escaping from his eyes. Moon moved his hand from Vince's hair and wiped the tears away gently. Vince noticed he looked different, somehow younger, less laboured; like a great affliction had been lifted from his soul.

Slowly, almost unnoticeably, Moon used his hand on Vince's cheek to guide the younger man's face gently towards his own until their lips met, in the sweetest of kisses. By now there was a prying crowd gathered and from all around them, they heard the gasps of confusion from the Stepford-lemmings.

They didn't understand, they'd never understand.

"Oh no!" gasped one child. "The monster's eating Vince."

But Vince didn't care what they shouted, all he cared about was Howard.

"Mr Moon?" That voice was so close and so authoritarian that it finally broke in to Vince and Moon's world.

Moon tried to get up and Vince twisted awkwardly in his arms until they were both sat, squinting at the silhouette of the policeman against the orangey sunrise.

"Are you Mr Moon?" The policeman repeated. Vince suddenly noticed Moon's grip around his waist tighten substantially and he realised; Moon was scared. Of course he was, he hadn't been out of that house in over 15 years. He wasn't used to people, he didn't like them.

"He is." Vince answered for him, finding Moon's hand and squeezing it as if to say 'it's okay, I'm here'.

"In that case Mr Moon, I am arresting you on suspicion of kidnap and murder…"

"What!?" cried Vince.

"…you do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

"You can't do this." screamed Vince, clinging tightly to Moon as the policeman dragged the surrendering man to his feet.

"Stop! **STOP**!" Vince's throat was hoarse and Moon's eyes were full of confusion as the cold, metal handcuffs pinched his skin. He looked like a frightened animal who'd just been caught in an elaborate trap. He didn't say a word, not that it would have been heard over Vince's cries of injustice as he kicked ferociously at the police officer's legs. Vince was hoping to leave him with some good bruises and cuts, he wanted him to feel even a fraction of the pain that he himself felt.

"Someone get this psychopath off me before I arrest him too." snarled the officer and Vince was suddenly being hauled away by his dad and brother. Vince tried to kick out at them but his brother slapped him hard sharply around the head and Vince dropped to the ground defeated.

Moon let out a strangled war cry as he was dragged away down the street. People threw stuff at him; shoes, rocks, food, anything they could get their hands on.

"Finally justice is being done." cried an old woman.

"This isn't justice!" screamed Vince from the floor. Everyone turned to look at him, he felt manic now. He knew he was out of control and he didn't care. "This isn't justice. This will _never_ be justice. You just block out what you don't understand. You ignore what doesn't fit into your world. None of you have even mentioned the disappearing house or the witch… you just pretend it didn't happen."

"What witch?" someone shouted.

"You were all here." Vince screamed, desperate tears streaming down his face. He choked. He was angry. He was hurt and upset. He felt sic and he felt crazy. And then, calm as you like, he led down on the floor and covered his face with his hands with a distinct feeling of 'there's nothing left I can do'.

He was vaguely aware of worried whispering beyond the safety of his hand-barrier.

"He's a nutter."  
"He's mental."  
"Is he in on the murder of Moon's wife?"  
"Maybe."  
"But that was 15 years ago."  
"Still, I wouldn't put it past him."  
"I've always said he was a weird kid."  
"He's not just weird he's got problems."  
"And the Noir's are such a nice family."

"Honey." That was his mum. "Go and get him, he's a very sick boy. We need to take him home. Quickly."


	8. Chapter 8

Somehow Vince had ended up at home. He was led on the sofa, his forehead cold and damp because his mum had insisted on giving him an icepack and he felt distinctly… empty.

His Gran was watching him with a suspiciously pleased looking smirk on her face.

"I told you." she was muttering to Shelia and Antony, "I told you all he was a mental case right from the start but would you listen? Of course not, you just said he was a bit of a loner."

"Please." Mrs Noir pleaded. "He's had a shock or something." she said, desperately trying to defend her son.

"Don't stick up for him." scowled Antony, "He should be going to prison too. The way he treated that PC Thomas was a disgrace."

"What are we going to do with him?" Gran asked. "I think we should kick the poof out."

"Well, _I_ think we should let him explain himself."

"You're so thick Shelia." Gran retorted cruelly. "He doesn't deserve your sympathy."

Vince just led there. He didn't react. He didn't need to. He wished he'd never persuade Moon to leave the house. He wished he could just escape there now. He'd give anything to just be led with him now on that red sofa, with pictures of great rock gigs floating past or watching a DVD of something called Woodstock. He wished so many things but none of them came true.

--

Vince sat on the wall opposite the prison looking up at Moon's cell. Moon was staring back, confused and forlorn. It was hopeless. Moon's case was as good as lost. Vince, obviously, had refused to press charges but the murder charge alone was enough to get him life imprisonment and, as the only lawyer in the town, Antony had taken a great deal of pleasure from taking on the case personally.

Antony had gloated about how easy the case was over dinner a couple of days ago.

"The man's a fool." he'd laughed maliciously, eying Vince, provoking a reaction. "He keeps going on and on about magic curses and ancient spells. If I'm not careful he'll be shipped to the loony farm and we don't want that. We want him to _suffer_."

At this point Vince had stood up, calmly walked around the table and punched his brother in the face. Suddenly, everything that hadn't been said, and dared not been said over the last few days was screamed at tops of voices. All of which resulted in Vince being thrown out of his own home with a tiny suitcase containing nothing but a few essentials.

Since then, Vince had just spent his days by the wall; sat on it during the day, curled up against it during the night. Moon watched on with difficulty as Vince turned into a shivering, shadow of a man.

"Hey." a gentle voice disturbed Vince's slow downward spiral of depression. He looked around to see Shelia smiling down at him.

"You should go." he scowled, his gaze shifting to the floor. "If people see you they'll hate you too."

"I know how you feel." she said, sitting down next to him and squeezing is hand.

"How do you?"

"My love was forbidden too. I had to pretend I didn't love Mike and when I married him, people were a bit angry. But I was in love and it was worth it. All the pain, all the heartbreak, it was all so worth it. And I bet he's worth it too, isn't he?"

Vince looked back up at Moon and nodded. Shelia smiled.

"You're so in love." she said, putting her arm around him and pulling him in close like only big sisters can and after a while she added; "He's quite good looking too."

And Vince grinned against her shoulder.

"I'm serious." she continued, "He's rocking the tall dark and handsome look but I'm not sure about that moustache."

"He recons it's fashionable. I did tell him that it hasn't been fashionable for years but he refuses to accept it. He's pretty stubborn."

"Yeah? Tell me more about him."

Vince looked at her for a brief second and nodded before spilling every detail, grateful to finally be allowed to talk about the person he'd been infatuated by for so, so long.

--

Vince was alone again now and was slumped down on the grassy patch next to the wall. Shelia had listened to him talk for hours. She'd hugged him when he'd sobbed and when she'd finally gone to cook dinner, she'd left him with the immortal words: '_Whatever you do, don__'__t give up_.'

Vince had almost pitied her as she walked off to rejoin the monotonous humdrum of town life and then he'd remembered his own situation and decided to save all his pity up for himself. He knew that if Moon had been able to talk to him he'd have said something about self-pity not helping anyone but Moon wasn't there, that was the point.

"Vince." another female voice interrupted his self-perpetuating misery. Couldn't people just leave him to wallow in his own depression in peace? "You okay?"

Vince didn't even look round this time. He just sat silent and sullen.

"Vince" the voice repeated, sliding down next to him. "Vince. It's okay. I'm not going to judge you." This made him look up. Elisa.

"Why are you here?" he asked, his face crinkling with confusion.

"I… I want to…" she placed a hand on his shoulder and from his cell Howard barked some kind of protectively, jealous cough.

'_It__'__s okay_.' Vince mouthed up at him, '_I love you__'_.

"Look Vince." Elisa repeated slowly, like each word was causing her some kind of physical pain and maybe they were, maybe they were breaking her heart but Elisa was selfless. She was willing to sacrifice her own heart for the sake of mending two others. "I think I can help you." she whispered."How?"

"I've got the key to his cell."

"How?"

"The jailer, he's my dad."

"I didn't know that."

"Because you could never be bothered to find out." she said, Vince could see tears in her eyes as she spoke and desperately wanted to say something comforting or kind,

"I…" then realising he would never have the right words he trailed off feebly.

"I thought I loved you Vince." Elisa tried to force a smile but the smile stopped where her tears began. "I always thought I'd be the one to make you happy. I thought that eventually, you'd love me back."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologise." she said sadly, "just… be happy, okay?." She took his hand and pressed the key into it.

As she went to leave, Vince got to his feet and placed a shaky kiss on her cheek,

"Thank you." he whispered softly, "I swear, I'll never forget you."

--

The next morning, when PC Thomas went to retrieve Moon from his cell he was shocked to find an empty room. The gate was wide open, there was no sign of a struggle or an escape route. Moon had simply vanished but people didn't just vanish. Then Moon had never been a person, he'd been a myth and a legend but never a person, not in their eyes.

The entire town was baffled by the disappearance but, it fitted in perfectly with their tiny little, straightforward world and Moon and Noir were quickly forgotten by every member of the community.

If you were to go to that village now and ask about the legend of Moon and Noir; people would stare at you blankly and point you in the direction of the witch of dreams, Elisa, who lived in a rickety old house not far from the bridge.

They say that she had always wanted to follow her love across the bridge but when the time had come she hadn't been brave enough to make those steps alone. And, with no one in the village prepared to believe that it was even possible to leave the town, no matter how much they wanted to, she just waited; waited until the next, curious and open minded child of imagination came to find her and help her across the bridge. She wasn't a hostage of love, so much as a hostage of truth. But one day, they'd come… that child of imagination, she knew they'd come. She'd just have to wait for that day.

It is always rumoured that Elisa see's pictures in her head when she sleeps, that they'd started just after the disappearance of Moon and Noir but everyone believed that these were just legends; designed to frighten children. It was absurd to suggest that it were possible to dream when you sleep. One person, however, did believe those rumours and that was a certain Mrs Noir, who remembered that once upon a time her forgotten son had asked her something similar. The son she'd ignored for so long, the son who'd finally fulfilled his dream and had left the town.

* * *

**It's over! Woo hoo!  
****Thanks for reading!**

**Sisi...xx**


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